


Parallax

by AllTheFeels



Series: Compass Rose [3]
Category: EXO (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Compass AU, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Momma Jin, Momma Suho, So if you're reading Compass Rose this is kinda a necessary read, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, There are soulmate compasses that hurt the first time they move, They're such moms in this ok, This fic contains some major plot points for the series btw, Yoongi is a good bro, as one fic rec put it "soulmate AU meshed with canonverse"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:25:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6070375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheFeels/pseuds/AllTheFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His sight is blurring again as soon as he can see properly, tears stinging his eyes and flooding down his cheeks. He’s babbling, sobbing about how damn much it hurts, and Yoongi’s hands are pushing hair out of his face while he mumbles reassurances desperately. There are other voices now, people he’s sure are the staff but he can’t stick names to voices right now. It’s too much, shit, it’s too much. The world shakes one final time before his vision flashes white, then black, and the darkness swallows him whole.</p><p>(The compasses are soulmate marks, appearing at birth and disappearing at death. This shouldn’t be as complex as it is--- they should just move in the presence of the person’s soulmate, but no. They come with quirks.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Legend

**Author's Note:**

> A BRUSH UP ON THE COMPASS AU:  
> Everyone is born with a compass on their wrist, which will remain pointing North until, essentially, whenever the compass feels like moving, at which point the pain is typically enough that soulmates will find each other through crying out. As an Idol, you are expected to cover your compass, especially if it is pointing towards somebody you are seen with frequently.

Being onstage is  _ weird _ .

 

Like, really weird. If one of the members wasn’t talking to an ARMY or a camera, they’d likely say the same, but Taehyung is Taehyung, so he says it to everyone he can. (Two makeup artists and both of their managers). It’s not just putting on a show, it’s about connecting. He knows that for a majority of the people in the crowd, they won’t have another chance to see them, so he puts all of his energy into the performance.

 

It feels like flying and falling all at once, control tight in his muscles but impulsivity running wild in his chest. It feels as though he’s both himself and not himself at all. Taehyung knows everyone else feels the same way, given that he watches them lose themselves and then find themselves on a semi-regular basis. This is why, he’s sure, they’re given the same warning time and time again--- “Don’t go too far.”

 

Time and time again, Taehyung thinks,  _ “What the hell does that mean?” _

 

It’s probably just a warning against doing anything too risqué. Sure, they can be sexual, as long as it's vague. Sure, hip thrusts are fine, so long as it's part of a dance and short enough you can't cause any controversy. It's confusing, and frankly Namjoon seems to navigate that better than he ever could, so Taehyung just avoids it. Of course, their warnings could always be about the compasses. As far as he knew, no idol had collapsed onstage yet. At least, not in any way too public. There  _ had _ been a few incidences where someone had dropped when they were going backstage, but at least the cameras recording them then could be turned off. On stage, you can't force the fancams to shut off. 

 

So, essentially, Taehyung’s greatest fear is having his compass move onstage. 

 

Even Yoongi and Jimin collapsing in the airport wasn't the same--- sure, there was still cameras and press, but the airport felt more private than the stage. The stage was...innocent, almost. Plenty of people collapsed at the airport, but on the stage? That was new.

 

It’s not as though there are no precautions taken. Before every show, they go through the same set of instructions. Taehyung could probably recite them in his sleep. 

 

_ “Your mic pack is going to be clipped onto your pants and facing inward. If you begin to feel the first signs of the movement--- disorientation, nausea, etc --- feel for where the wiring of your mic connects with it. It will likely be on the left, but there’s been a few times it’s been on your right. Feel for left first, then right. Find it, and unplug it. We won’t shut your mic off in the control booth, though. Continue singing, and if you feel fine in the next few minutes, plug it back in. We’ll bring the volume down a bit, just in case.” _

 

His makeup artist is wearily dabbing concealer onto the black lines of the compass while one of the managers recites the instructions, and for what feels like the millionth time, Taehyung smiles and nods. 

 

“Almost done,” The makeup artist says gently, blending another layer of foundation over the previous four and then getting out the setting powder.

 

“Thank you,” He tells her genuinely, chest aching a bit as he sees the last of the lines, now a soft grey, disappear beneath tan powder. He’s been feeling a bit sappy for the past few days, and it’s shown. Yoongi had raised an eyebrow at him after he’d clung to Jimin’s side for almost the entire day yesterday, and he’d just shrugged in reply.

 

_ I genuinely don’t know, hyung. _

 

Maybe he just needs a vacation.

 

-

 

Being onstage continues to be  _ weird _ . This time, though, it’s a different kind of weird. The air feels hot and tight, despite the fact that due to the flares being set off, the air conditioning is blasting. If anything, Taehyung should feel  _ cold _ , but he feels like someone’s lit a match beneath his skin. Then it hits him. 

 

The world is spinning, and he wants to make his legs move but he  _ can’t _ . The fire in his skin is beginning to localize--  _ shit. _

 

Taehyung moves, pulling to the back of the group as quickly as he can and fumbling with his mic pack. God, his fingers feel so thick. He just barely manages to pull the plug when he swears his wrist breaks. The fire is scorching his veins, blackening capillaries. He can feel the stage beneath his fingers, smooth and cold. It’s the only thing keeping him grounded, his vision having gone white.  _ Fuck. Fuck, fuck, is it supposed to hurt this much? _

 

There are hands on his sides, cold seeping through the fabric onto his skin as he’s roughly pulled to his feet. He can’t see where he’s being led, and makes a desperate gurgling noise and whoever is touching him shushes him quickly. Taehyung grabs at the person’s shirt, and a few seconds later they’re not moving. His sight is slowly returning, and he sees dark hair backlit by shining lights, almost like a halo. 

 

It takes a second before he can see that it’s Yoongi.

 

_ Definitely not a halo. _

  
His sight is blurring again as soon as he can see properly, tears stinging his eyes and flooding down his cheeks. He’s babbling, sobbing about how _damn much_ it hurts, and Yoongi’s hands are pushing hair out of his face while he mumbles reassurances desperately. There are other voices now, people he’s sure are the staff but he can’t stick names to voices right now. It’s too much, _shit_ , it’s too much. The world shakes one final time before his vision flashes white, then black, and the darkness swallows him whole.


	2. Azimuth

“Seokjin, you need to  _ calm down _ .” Namjoon says firmly, making a valiant but failed attempt of pulling his distressed boyfriend away from where Taehyung was clinging to Yoongi’s lap. He’d woken up about an hour ago, and had been sobbing ever since. At first, Seokjin had been calm, trying his best to help the younger boy, but by now he’d become, well...frantic. 

 

“Kim Namjoon, don’t you  _ fucking _ \---”

 

“Seokjin!,” He snapped, deciding  _ to hell with it _ and grabbing the shorter man’s collar and pulling him up. Seokjin struggles a bit, but Namjoon drags him out the room without a second thought, finally stopping outside of their dressing room. 

 

“You’re going to burn yourself out like this,” Namjoon warns, “We both know this isn’t normal. We need to call someone, you can’t fix this on your own.”

 

“The hell I can’t,” Seokjin growls, and his voice is so maternal Namjoon actually takes a step back, “Jungkookie, Hoseok and I are the  _ only _ ones who know what this is like. I can’t leave him alone, and I won’t leave him with Jungkook and Hoseok, they...they shouldn’t have to handle this.”

 

Namjoon’s eyes narrow and his voice is clipped when he speaks, “I’ve gone through this too,  _ babe _ , and I’m not trying to be---”

 

He’s cut off by Seokjin’s phone going off, blasting Growl. They both stare at it for a few moments before Seokjin pulls it out of his pocket, bites his lip in deliberation, and answers the call. 

 

“Joonmyeon, now really isn’t a good time,” Seokjin says wearily, pushing brown locks out of his face. The other leader’s response is loud and frantic, 

 

“I’m sorry, shit, I just...he’s been c-crying for an hour, and I’ve never...I don’t know what to  _ do _ , I don’t think this is normal...”

 

“Are you...are you talking about Taehyung?,” Seokjin asks, bracing a hand against the wall as he furrows his brow.

 

“What? No, no, Baekhyun, is...is Taehyung...too?,” Joonmyeon asks, suddenly  _ slightly _ quieter. 

 

“Yeah,” Seokjin says, voice almost a whisper, and then he clears his throat and adds, “Where are you?”

 

“The dorm...we were supposed to be at the studio, but…,” Namjoon can practically see Joonmyeon shrugging. Seokjin lets out a little puff of air, thinking quietly before asking, 

 

“That’s a few hours away, isn’t it?”

 

His eyes look so old, for just a moment, as he considers whether or not they could move Taehyung.

 

“Baekhyun’s been holding onto Chanyeol, but I think I can bring him. He’s been able to stand, so that’s a good sign. And, well, I’d end up bringing Chanyeol too, but you know how they are,” Joonmyeon lets out a teary laugh then asks, “Where are you?”

 

“We’re in Seoul, at the Arts Center. We finished a concert a few hours ago, Taehyung...he collapsed onstage. Yoongi pulled him off,” Jin flinches a bit when he can hear the older man curse in shock, “He’ll be alright, I think. Our managers have been trying to contain this as much as possible, and so far I’ve only seen one or two stories about it---”

 

Namjoon mouths,  _ “Because you’ve been a mother hen.” _

 

“--- so I think it’s been working. But still, the faster you get here, the better.”

 

-

 

The pain lifts. At first it’s slow, slow enough that Taehyung can move his fingers again, and then it’s all at once. It slams him in the chest, really, the sudden  _ freedom _ in his limbs, and Taehyung is scrambling to his feet as quickly as possible. Yoongi just stares up at him, lips jutting out and eyes wide. 

 

“I....I…,” Taehyung starts, lifting his arms in confusion and freezing as he watches the needle of his compass glide from North to West. Slowly, very slowly, he turns, just in time to see a familiar face being shoved through the double doors. He watches as the other man looks down at his compass in astonishment, then follows suit.

 

North.

“Baekhyun!,” Taehyung shouts, a grin breaking out across his face as he sprints across the room--- god, he can finally  _ move _ .

 

They meet halfway, both looking an absolute mess, with tear-stained cheeks and blinding smiles. They’re a mess of limbs, really, so tightly wound around each other that they were practically indistinguishable. Certainly, Baekhyun’s face was tucked into Taehyung’s neck, the other man’s fingers buried in his hair. They break apart for just long enough that Taehyung can wipe the tears off of his soulmate’s face, then they’re back, just holding each other--- just  _ feeling _ . 

 

From the door, Seokjin and Joonmyeon look on, each with a mix of affection and concern painted on their faces.

 

“Let’s hope we never have to go through this again,” Joonmyeon says softly, smiling as he watches Baekhyun pepper Taehyung’s face with kisses.

 

“With soulmates so far away, it’s nasty business. I hope none of your boys…,” Seokjin can’t finish, instead choosing to let his words trail off.

 

“Me too,” The other leader replies, nervously biting at his cheek, “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit ominous, hmmm? Drop me a comment and let me know what you thought! Thank you for reading :)


End file.
